


Let Me Be Your Strong Person

by TexasRevoFan (Lemonsaresweet)



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, General Monroe, Philadelphia, charloe - Freeform, innocent!Charlie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 13:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7363525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemonsaresweet/pseuds/TexasRevoFan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still not moving, Monroe replied in a low, hoarse voice. "Charlotte, I just met you. But sometimes, when you always have to be the strong one, it feels good to let someone else take control for once. To abandon yourself to another strong person. Just for a little while."</p><p>Charlie closed her eyes and sighed. He was right. It was scary how right he was. "And you're that strong person?" she asked, fighting for rationality, not sure if she wanted him to talk her into or out of it.</p><p>(x-post from ff.net)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Be Your Strong Person

**Author's Note:**

> Just bringing one of my old Charloe one-shots over to Ao3, nothing to see here. ;)

Charlie had been in the holding cell where Monroe's men had taken her for hours. Her mind kept spinning around and around her first encounter with Monroe. Her begging her mother not to help him. Hearing her mother ordered to choose between her two children. Feeling the certainty that she was going to die, facing down the barrel of a gun.

But then she had lived. And Monroe had walked out, leaving orders that his guards should murder her if her mother stepped out of line. She should have hated him, or at least feared him. Yet all she could think was that she and he had left something unfinished. That she had to see him, to figure out what it was.

So she'd called the guard over and told him that she was ready to talk, that she knew more about how to turn the power back on than she'd originally revealed. The man had been skeptical at first, but she persuaded him that to risk not telling Monroe, if there was even the chance that she was telling the truth, would mean his execution. With Danny looking confused behind her, she let the guard yank her out of the cell and down a long series of corridors. They stopped in front of a closed wooden door, which opened to the guard's coded knock, revealing Monroe behind it.

The guard pushed Charlie aside and exchanged some hushed words with Monroe. The General looked at her curiously, then nodded. "Leave her with me." He turned and walked into the room, and the guard shoved her in behind him.

Charlie stumbled forward, and as she regained her footing, she was shocked to realize that she was in Monroe's bedroom. A couch and desk sat near a glowing fire, and a large bed was visible along the opposite wall. Charlie's heart raced as she realized she may have put herself in serious danger.

"My guard said you have some information for me," General Monroe said once the door was closed. He was no longer in the severe black uniform he'd worn to confront them before but had changed into a button-down shirt and pants. He seemed far less terrifying, dressed as a normal person.

"I lied," Charlie confessed immediately. "I don't… I don't know why I'm here."

A knowing smile played on Monroe's lips. "You don't?"

Charlie shrugged helplessly. "I just—every instinct in my body was screaming that I had to get to you. Had to see you. So I listened."

Monroe smirked at that, and said nothing. Turning away from her, he strode over to his desk and poured a glass of some type of liquor. He glanced up at her. "I'd offer you one, but I'm pretty sure you're underage. And I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you."

Charlie cocked her hip, "Yeah, there's no such thing as 'underage.' And I can handle my liquor, thanks." She held out a hand defiantly.

Monroe raised an eyebrow. "Well, in that case." He held out the glass to her, and once she took it, poured one for himself. He raised his toward her in a silent toast, and he took a swig, then another, draining the glass. Not to be outdone, Charlie did the same, swallowing a cough as the burning brew slid down her throat. When she'd finished, she set the empty glass down on a nearby end table.

She figured it was her imagination that she could already feel her head buzzing, but she wasn't sure. Despite her bravado, she'd only had alcohol a few times in her life, weak home brews that kids in her town had snuck out of their parents' home distilleries. Nothing like whatever this was. She had no idea how it would affect her.

Monroe studied her for a few long seconds, then sat down on the couch. He draped an arm across the back cushion and said, "Come here." When Charlie hesitated nervously, he rolled his eyes, "If I was going to hurt you, I already would have. Come on."

Hardly reassured, Charlie stepped toward him. With every step closer, she felt his presence like a radiant sun, heating her body, drawing her in. She sat on the edge of the sofa, her leg pressed against his.

She'd meant to stay safely aloof, her posture erect, but she was unable to resist the urge to get closer to him. Tucking her legs up, she curled herself against Monroe, resting her head on his shoulder, pressing into his side. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw him close his eyes briefly, and under her cheek felt his chest rise and fall as he breathed in deeply.

Monroe had no idea why this girl—woman, he reminded himself, she was at least 18—was affecting him this way. Usually when his guards made late-night deliveries of women to his room, it was for one purpose. That had to be it. His body responding instinctively to what normally happened next. But he would be patient. As much as he wanted to take her right then, whether she wanted it or not, rape was one that was not on the list of his various crimes. But he'd come dangerously close with her, before, even with her mother and brother watching. And now here she was.

Charlie found herself overwhelmed by the urge to touch Monroe. She lifted her hand and rested it on his chest, feeling his warmth and hard muscle through his shirt. Slowly, she traced the contours of his pecs, then ran her hand down over his taut stomach, stopping well short of going any lower. Monroe remained motionless as she explored his body, staring straight ahead with his arm around her, the other on his opposite knee, his legs splayed. Charlie could hear his heart pounding in her ear that was rested against him, a powerful drumbeat that almost let her believe that none of this was really happening.

Not backing off, Charlie touched Monroe more boldly, running her hand up to caress the side of his neck and stroke her fingertips against his earlobe, his pulse point. As she drew her hand back down, Monroe lifted his hand and quickly flicked the buttons of his shirt open just ahead of her progress, so she encountered bare flesh rather than cotton. Charlie let out a soft gasp at the feel of his muscular body and smoothed her palm against his skin.

Monroe was rock-hard, desperately aroused by Charlie's eager yet unsure touch feathering over his body. He felt like he could come apart at any moment, listening to her soft sighs, and feeling the desire that she was fairly radiating as she explored him like uncharted territory.

Charlie felt herself getting wet, found she had to fight the urge to grab Monroe and kiss him. The power of her need for him was staggering, and she whispered, "Why is this happening?"

"What?" Monroe murmured, turning to her, putting his lips on her hair. It was soft, and warm, like the rest of her, and smelled of vanilla, somehow.

"Why do I feel like I… want you? It doesn't make sense, but I… I need this," Charlie tried to explain. From the moment she'd seen him, her reaction to him had been nothing like she'd expected. She'd been picturing a monster, but instead he looked more like a Greek god. Or a fallen angel.

Still not moving, Monroe replied in a low, hoarse voice. "Charlotte, I just met you. But sometimes, when you always have to be the strong one, it feels good to let someone else take control for once. To abandon yourself to another strong person. Just for a little while."

Charlie closed her eyes and sighed. He was right. It was scary how right he was. "And you're that strong person?" she asked, fighting for rationality, not sure if she wanted him to talk her into or out of it.

"Yes," he said simply. "You can let go, with me. Let me flow over you. Like a river." Charlie sighed slightly with relief at his permission.

As they'd been talking, Charlie had been running her hands over Monroe's body. She traced his clavicle, skated her fingers over his rib cage, felt the coarse hair that appeared right at the edge of his low-slung waistband. Finally, she moved her hand lower, touching the hard ridge of Monroe's cock through his pants. Charlie groaned with desire as she felt him. He was fully erect, and she cupped him with her hand, in awe of the raw masculine power. Rubbing him more firmly, she felt up and down his length, once, twice.

And suddenly, Monroe grabbed her hand. For a split second, he grinded his cock up into it, then he wrapped his fingers in hers and pushed her hand away, pinning it in her own lap. As she looked up at him in surprise, he bent his head down and kissed her forcefully. It was a kiss that demanded, took. A kiss that was like a dam breaking, all of his careful control swept away in a surge of lust. He'd been a gentleman for long enough, longer than he'd thought he could hold out. She had made the first move; now he would have her, and God, how he wanted this woman. If he was asked to choose, in that moment, between her and a world with power, he wasn't sure what he'd pick. She squirmed against him, making sweet little noises into his mouth, and he was grateful that only one of those options was on the table right then.

Dropping Charlie's hand, Monroe clutched her body to his, pulling her against his bare chest as he kissed her, delving his tongue into her mouth. He tasted of whiskey, of course, but also fresh air and spice. Charlie let out a small whimper, and he broke away, breathing raggedly. She gazed into his eyes and saw a fierce intensity there that scared her. Charlie understood in that moment that she'd started something that she wouldn't be able to stop.

Monroe reached one hand up and tangled it in her hair, pulling her head back roughly. Charlie cried out in a combination of pleasure and pain, and Monroe lowered his head to her neck, kissing and biting her. When he found a spot that made her shudder, he sucked there, hard, causing her hips to buck into him as she cried for mercy. He finally stopped, but Charlie was sure he'd left a bruise.

Still holding her by the hair, Monroe sat back and pulled one of her legs over him so she was straddling his lap. Charlie responded by grinding down against his hard cock, drawing a groan from him. Impatiently, he pushed his hands under the hem of her tank top and yanked it up, exposing her braless breasts. Charlie thought she heard him whisper, "fuck," before he bent his head down and latched onto one nipple. His hands crushed into her waist, holding her against him, as he lavished first one breast, then the other. Charlie watched him, the sight of his chiseled jaw and sexy lips suckling on her breasts turning her on insanely.

Charlie wanted to see more of him. She pushed at his shirt, trying to work it down over his shoulders. Monroe ignored her at first, but finally paused in his ministrations to shrug out of his shirt, and she quickly whipped her own off over her head. Now, they were naked chest to naked chest. Charlie leaned into Monroe and pressed her nipples into him, kissing him, working her crotch against him as she did.

Suddenly, Monroe stood, and she wrapped her legs around him tightly so as not to fall off his lap. He grasped her ass, holding her up, and scolded, "You wanted me to take control, remember? So let me." He walked her over to the bed several feet away and threw her down with more force than was strictly necessary. He left her at the edge of the bed, so her legs hung partially off, and kneeled to quickly remove her boots and socks.

Monroe stood and looked down at Charlie. Her stomach curled in anticipation at the predatory gleam in his eyes. "I need to see you naked, now," he warned her, then bent down, kissing along her stomach until he reached her jeans. With practiced hands, he undid her fly and pulled her jeans and panties down as his mouth explored lower and lower. Charlie cried out at the friction of fabric pulling away from her engorged pussy, then the feeling of cool air bringing her some relief. She felt helpless with frustration as Monroe skipped over where she needed him most, instead kissing down every inch of her inner thigh, knee, and calf as he removed the last of her clothes.

Finally, Charlie was naked and spread before him. Monroe pulled her closer to him, hooking his hands around her thighs, and pushed her open even wider. She tried to resist, drawing her legs together slightly, and Monroe forced her open, his hands pressing her into the bed with unrelenting force. "Let me look at you," he ordered. And when he'd looked his fill, he brought his face down between her legs and tasted her.

At first, he tongued her gently. So gently, Charlie longed to press herself into his mouth, harder, but he still held her down in place before him. His warm tongue brushed over her clit, making her give a needy moan. He edged his way between her slick folds, then licked more firmly, gathering her juices on his tongue. She was so wet, his tongue moved slickly over her, giving her soft and smooth and wet and heat all at once. "Monroe, yes, God," she cried out, unable to help herself. A few more minutes of his tongue stroking over her clit, and she was coming apart, shaking with her orgasm as he firmly licked her through it.

Her legs went limp as she came down from her high, and Monroe drew away from her, quickly doffing his clothes so he was naked too. Then he climbed between her legs, hovering over her body. Dropping his head to hers, he kissed her deeply. Charlie could taste herself still on his lips, and she moaned and writhed against him. As they kissed, Monroe nudged himself closer to her, and she felt the hot hardness of his cock brushing against her sex. Charlie drew back instinctively at the unfamiliar sensation.

Monroe didn't miss it, and he looked down at her, his eyes unfocused with lust. "What's wrong?" Seeing something in her expression, his brow furrowed. "You have done this before, right?"

Charlie felt a blush steal over her face, prickly and warm. She was no naïve that she hadn't even realized he would ask her, that he'd be able to tell how inexperienced she was. She thought she'd done a good job faking it so far, and it's not like she hadn't gotten a few guys off here and there. But this… "No. Not yet."

"Christ," Monroe said, and she couldn't tell if he was upset. He lowered his forehead to hers, holding a hand under her neck, supporting himself on his other elbow. Charlie was still acutely aware of his body between her legs, how easily he could take her at any second.

"We can stop here," Monroe said, with obvious difficulty. "I'm not going to do this if you don't want it." He ran his thumb over the side of her neck, down the front of her throat, then said against her lips, "Tell me what you want."

Breathlessly, Charlie answered, "I want this. I want you." Her body was aching for him, and there was no way she could stop now. No way she wanted to.

Dropping his head, Monroe kissed her deeply, probing her mouth with his tongue, groaning slightly. "Are you sure?" he said. "I won't ask again."

Instead of speaking, Charlie threw her arms and legs up around him and tried to pull him into her. Monroe resisted her, then pulled her arms off him and pinned them above her head, holding her immobile. Her breasts were thrust up and out, and he began to suck on them again, pinching and pulling her nipples with his free hand. Charlie felt the ache in her core growing more desperate the longer he made her wait for him.

"Monroe, please…" she gasped as he raked his teeth over one hard nipple, soothing it with his tongue.

Apparently deciding she was ready, he reached down and took himself in his hand. Charlie felt the blunt head of his cock against the tender flesh of her sex, and this time she forced herself to remain still. Monroe stroked himself up and down her wetness, spreading her moisture. Charlie whimpered with pleasure, staring up at his face, which was creased in concentration as he moved against her.

Then Charlie felt him begin to push inside, and she gasped. It felt amazing. Strange, and full, and nothing at all like her own fingers or those of the few boys who had tried to pleasure her. This was a force of invasion, of claiming.

Monroe moved further inside, and as she felt her body yielding to him, Charlie cried out, "oh!"

He paused, "You okay?"

She nodded, unable to speak, the sensations rocketing through her body too much to handle. When she felt him start to move again, she moaned, "Yes. More. Give me more."

At that, Monroe made a noise of pure animal lust and released her arms, bracing himself and bending down to kiss her hard as he pushed his cock further into her body, more firmly, moving more quickly. He withdrew and thrust in again, and Charlie felt herself responding, loosening. As he went deeper, Charlie felt a sharp pain inside her, and then felt Monroe's body flush against hers.

Monroe groaned as he felt himself balls-deep inside Charlie. She was so tight, so hot. He moved inside her, barely holding himself back from fucking her as hard as he could, not wanting to hurt her. Firmly but smoothly, he thrust into her rhythmically, reading the cues of her body beneath him as she writhed and moaned.

"Monroe, ahh, feels so good," she murmured, thrusting her hips up slightly to meet him. "Fuck, Monroe, please… more…"

"It's Bass," he said, as he picked up his pace, going deeper. "Call me Bass."

"Bass," she cried immediately in response as his hips slammed into hers. "Oh God, Bass!"

He'd been holding himself in check, but at the sound of her screaming his name, the feeling of her yielding pussy beneath him, the sight of her face flushed with desire, her lips swollen with his kisses, Monroe could delay no longer. Pounding her into the bed, he thrust his engorged dick into her body, hard, relentless, and his orgasm ripped through him. He drove himself into Charlie, emptying himself inside her, filling her, crying out loudly as he came.

For a while, they both laid in silence, breathing hard. After a minute, Monroe leaned up and grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed, throwing it over them. He didn't pull Charlie into his arms, though he wanted to. He didn't want her to feel trapped.

"What do I do now?" Charlie asked after several seconds.

Monroe looked at her curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, do I go back to… my cell?" She tripped over the words. "Do I stay with you? Am I even safe here?"

A dangerous frown stole over Monroe's face. "Yes, you're safe here. I'm not going to let anyone harm you."

Charlie sighed. Despite what they'd just shared, she hadn't forgotten all she knew about General Sebastian Monroe. "Even yourself?"

"Never," Monroe growled, and then he did wrap himself around her, pulling her into his chest, holding her there as if to shield her from the world.

It felt so good to be held by someone, and paradoxically, she did feel safer with Monroe than she had in months, maybe longer. Charlie let herself relax, and she quickly fell asleep.

*   *   *

Charlie awoke with a start, gasping. She sat up in a panic, then looked down and saw the heart-breakingly handsome man lying beside her. It took her groggy brain a few seconds to remember who he was. General Sebastian Monroe. She froze when she saw him begin to wake up beside her, no doubt jostled by her sudden movements.

Monroe opened his eyes, and his face was lit by a soft smile when he saw her, before shuttering into a guarded expression. "Good morning, Charlotte," he said formally, raising himself up on one elbow. "Everything alright?"

Charlie stared at him, her eyes wide. "I'm not sure."

"Why aren't you sure?" he asked patiently.

She laughed slightly. "Where do I even start? Last night was…" He held her gaze, waiting for her to finish. "I didn't know it would be like that," she finished lamely. And damnit, she was suddenly dying to touch him again, to relive the images that had flickered through her dreams all night, of him inside her, his tongue on her, his body moving over hers.

Monroe looked relieved, then smug. "It won't always be. I'm afraid I've probably ruined you for other men. You're mine, now, Charlotte." He kept his tone light, but there was an intensity underlying his words that made her shiver slightly.

Charlie gave in to temptation and lay back down beside Monroe, resting her head on her pillow. He did the same, so their faces were level, just inches apart. "So what happens next?" she asked.

Reaching up, Monroe smoothed his hand down her shoulder and arm. "Stay with me. Let me be your strong person when you need me." He paused, and added, "And maybe you could be mine."

Her heart jumped with excitement, and fear. How could she even consider what he was asking? She reminded herself that the beautiful, golden-haired man beside her was the same man whose name haunted her childhood nightmares, who was responsible for the death of her father, who just hours before had dismissively told his guards to kill her and her brother. No matter that every cell in her body was screaming "yes," she couldn't just give herself to him. Not like this.

"Are you going to let my mom go?" she challenged him. "Stop trying to get the power on? Stop all the killing and violence and fighting?"

He sighed, rolling onto his back, folding his hands over his stomach and staring at the ceiling. After a few seconds, he said carefully, "You have no idea what you’re asking. Everything I've done, I've done to keep this nation going. Getting the power back on, is the only way my people are going to be safe."

Charlie scoffed. "Your people? What, the same people you oppress and murder whenever it pleases you?"

Monroe turned a furious glare on her and launched himself out of the bed. Charlie tried not to notice how glorious his body was as he stomped around, angrily pulling clothes on. Grabbing hers off the floor where she'd left them, he flung them at her. "How stupid of me to think you would understand. You may have wanted someone to fuck you last night, but in the end you're just like your mom and Miles. So fucking self-righteous you can't even see straight."

Charlie picked up her tank top with numb, shaking hands and pulled it on. She wanted to apologize, tell him she would try to understand, that she was sorry. But her pride and reason won out – she had nothing to apologize for. He was a killer. He was the enemy. How could she have let herself forget it, even for a moment?

He pulled the door open and barked to the guard outside, "I'm done with her. She goes back in the holding cell with the other kid."

Under the sheets, Charlie quickly scrambled to get the rest of her clothes back on. She got out of the bed and put on her socks and boots while the guard watched her and Monroe stared stubbornly at the ground. With as much dignity as possible, she walked to the door and stepped past Monroe, into the hallway.

"Come on, girlie. I'm gonna take good care of you," the guard said in a lecherous voice, and started down the hall.

Monroe quickly stepped after him and grabbed his shoulder violently, whirling him around. "No one touches her," he gritted.

Immediately, the guard's stupid grin disappeared from his face. "Of course, sir, absolutely."

"If any harm comes to her, I will personally execute everyone responsible," Monroe repeated, his voice low and deadly serious. He turned his gaze to Charlie and her breath caught at the intensity of his stare. Then he whirled and went back into the room. When the door slammed behind him, Charlie felt the vibrations through her whole body, and she fought the urge to run after him.

"Come on, girlie," the guard said, this time in a much kinder voice. After another beat or two, she turned slowly away from the door—from Monroe—and followed the guard down the hall.

*   *   * 


End file.
